The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(16)
And they weren’t as nasty either. “I took it upon myself to get some stuff out here,” she finally replied coolly, once she’d shut down her insane libido. “Since you seemed pretty content to let me twiddle my thumbs and starve.”
“I told you to talk to me when you were hungry.” He was, she knew, attempting to intimidate her. Why else would he get so close to her? Close enough so that she could smell him - the tang of sweat, aftershave, and something spicy that would have made a lesser woman light-headed. But Juliet wasn’t a lesser woman.
“Well, you can imagine how eager I was to do that. You were so forthcoming in every other aspect,” she replied dryly, choosing to stare at a spot over his shoulder rather than him. If there was anything Juliet had learned in her life, it was that her gut feeling about men could be wrong - and right now her gut was telling her to climb Hank Compton like a tree.
“Who did you call? I thought you didn’t have a phone.”
“Well, you locked me out, so I went out to Crowley and Bosh.” For a long beat, the man stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“You went out there on your crutch? Alone?” If looks could kill, Juliet would have been dead in her dusty armchair. “Christ, are you insane?”
“Not insane. Just annoyed.”
“You’re annoyed.” Hank threw up his hands, turning his back on her. Furious as Juliet was, she couldn’t help but notice the way the tattooed muscles of the man’s back bunched and contracted as he shifted from foot to foot. “The woman I’m trying to protect obviously has a fucking death wish.”
“Oh, cut the crap.” Juliet struggled to hide her own anger now. “You could care less if I dropped dead. You decided back in that hospital room that I was worth less than shit because I’ve been with Solomon. Don’t you dare deny it.”
“Why the fuck would I deny it?” Hank whirled to bear down on her once more. “You stay at the man’s side for nearly a decade, aiding and abetting his crimes, and now I have to babysit you? Hardly the best use of my time.”
That did it. “Aiding and abetting?” Juliet’s voice trembled when she answered him - though out fury or helplessness, she wasn’t quite sure. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. No idea.” Though the people setting up the computer and stocking the larder were pretending not to listen, Juliet could see the way they strained to overhear their conversation.
“Being caught in a firefight doesn’t make you a hero, Juliet.” Hank returned, his tone flat. “If you want to have a contest for whose gotten injured the most in the line of duty, I’d beat you by a fucking landslide.”
“Dear God, you think whoever broke into the mansion shot me?” Juliet shook her head slowly in disbelief, unsure whether she should laugh or cry. “Solomon did this, Compton. I took advantage of the chaos of the attack to try and get away and he caught me. When I kicked him in his fucking face, he decided putting me down would be better than trying to reclaim me.” She touched her shoulder gingerly, her gaze fierce. “For whatever reason, you’ve already made up your mind that I’m your enemy and that’s fine. But don’t tell me what my life has been like. You weren’t there to watch that man alienate me from everyone I knew and loved! My own parents didn’t want anything to do with me. Before the FBI made their offer, I was going to land on the streets and nobody gave a good goddamn. That’s how much influence I had as Solomon Aguiler’s fuck toy. So don’t pretend you know me.”
She hadn’t intended to go on such a long tirade, but it had the unexpected effect of shutting Hank Compton up - even if Juliet embarrassed herself with the tears coursing down her cheeks. She was hardly in any shape to get up and leave, but that’s exactly what she did. Leaving her crutch behind, Juliet hobbled to her room just as fast as she could before shutting the door behind her.
She thought that, once she was alone, she would regain enough composure to stop crying, but to her anger and frustration, the tears kept coming.
She was scared. No, strike that, she was fucking terrified, and the one person who was supposed to protect her hated her guts for something she couldn’t help. Maybe she wasn’t with Solomon anymore, but here she was, still scared for her life.
Would this reputation follow her forever? Everyone she encountered leering at and ridiculing her because she had once been the kept woman of one of the most evil men alive?
Christ. Juliet had been so sure that she’d escaped...but it seemed like she’d just stepped into another nightmare.
**
“I hear you two haven’t been getting along.” It was the last thing Hank wanted to hear, and so, naturally, the subject of he and Juliet was the first thing Simmons addressed when he called. Truth be told, he’d seen neither hide nor hair of Juliet since her little speech the previous afternoon - she didn’t seem to want to come out of her room.
“Am I supposed to be her best friend?” He groused, half-watching a random program on the ten-year-old TV. His words, however, had less venom than they might have twenty four hours before. This was, remarkably, because Hank felt something that he hadn’t in a very long time.
Guilt.
“Hardly. But you’re supposed to be getting her to talk. I doubt she’s going to talk to someone she doesn’t trust.” Simmons, as usual, was right - but that was the icing on top of the shit cake Hank found himself sampling.